


Ranch Two

by illxmination



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Food, Humor, no beta we die like men, this post lives rent free in my brain for the rest of my days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illxmination/pseuds/illxmination
Summary: "Honey, your eyes! Why are they glowing?"--Inspired byTHAT Tumblr post.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 259





	Ranch Two

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr, you are something else at times. However, I have no regrets in writing this.

Three-oh-seven in the morning, Central Daylight Time.

He had been up for nearly eighteen hours, stumbling down the steps with his hand gripping the railing. If he had not been so paranoid about his parents, he would have tried to see if he could light his hand up in his human form akin to Vlad and his ghost rays from his fingertips. Yet he knew if he tried something like that, he would probably be hogtied to the metal table downstairs within mere _seconds_ of the final step.

It was something to consider trying at Sam’s place later.

The step creaked, and Danny froze with eyes closed and foot easing off the wood slowly. Someone seemed to move upstairs, or the bed needed to be replaced in his parents’ bedroom. He waited a minute before finally stepping off the stairs and sighing quietly. Everything was so much _louder_ at three AM for some reason; no one ever seemed to question why. It just _was._

The boy tiptoed best he could into the kitchen, groping the countertops before reaching and grabbing the handle of the refrigerator. He opened the door, squinting with a look inside and a sigh. Right, he had forgotten the leftovers in the corner; his parents kept talking about cleaning out the thing later, but later turned into a _week._ Danny’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the food contents before he spotted it out of the corner of his eye.

Ectoplasm.

Danny’s memory flickered to the seemingly casual conversation with his mother only six hours prior about the new container in the front of the appliance.

* * *

“ _Mom?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“What the hell is **ectoplasm** doing in the fridge?”_

_“Your father and I are doing a little experiment. We want to see the effects that the cold has on ectoplasm, specifically that of which may apply to those who could have ice cores. We need to slowly drop the temperature, then we’ll transfer it to the freezer and go from there.”_

_“I mean, you could also put it outside where it’s… I dunno, twenty-seven degrees?”_

_“And have someone possibly steal such a valuable substance?”_

_“Ah, right. Never mind.”_

* * *

Danny stared at the ectoplasm, feeling his stomach knot slightly and pulling it out of the refrigerator. How the _hell_ did they manage to get their hands on some, and who was the poor ghost who was on the receiving end of losing _so much?_ Far as he could remember, he had not had any recent fights with ghosts, nor did he remember being on the end of such a fight that would _warrant_ any ectoplasm loss.

It seemed to _glow_ in the dark, and Danny almost wrinkled his nose. It also had him thinking, in a morbidly curious way.

What _did_ ectoplasm taste like?

He set down the container, reaching for the cabinet to pull out a small glass bowl; the next destination was the silverware drawer, grabbing a fork and gritting his teeth. It was not out of anger, merely annoyance at the reminder that while his parents were certainly scientists… they were not always, well. _Parents._ The substance lit up the room with a dim green glow, and Danny took the top off the container.

The smell of ectoplasm filled the room, and Danny almost recoiled. Like garlic or onion, the smell was almost _unmistakable_ as a human; how did he _not_ notice this before? It had a tiny hint of dill, but it was like- _ranch?_ Was it a _subset_ flavor of it, or had the onion and garlic permeated the plastic and ruined the entire thing? Did his parents just need to buy new Tupperware containers?

Now Danny was even _more_ curious.

He lifted the small Tupperware bowl of ectoplasm, spooning some into the glass bowl with a fork and leaning his head back; with a soft noise, the teenager set the bowl down and shook his head. It had already cooled in the refrigerator; some tired voice in his head told him maybe the microwave would kill some of the flavor or the smell. The brain was not the best at processing things after being up for nearly twenty hours, anyway.

But his parents… would they hear him?

Danny took the glass bowl over to the microwave, pulling open the device and setting the bowl on the outermost edge of the plate. He jammed the button for thirty seconds, shaking his head and going back over to the refrigerator. He could not just eat this _raw;_ there had to be something to go with it. What would even _go_ with ectoplasm- was there some sort of book in the Ghost Zone about ghost cuisine?

There were so many questions and thirteen seconds left on the microwave; he would have to ask later some day when he was not kicking ass or getting it _kicked._ Danny took the leftover tater tots from the night prior and put the box on the counter, putting back the ectoplasm right where he had found it and shutting the door.

_Four… three… two…_

A finger jammed the cancel button.

_Beep._

He opened the microwave and pulled out the bowl by the top, setting it on the counter and opening the box of tater tots. The smell was no longer as powerful as it was before, and Danny took a moment to place the lid in the sink and take some _deep_ breaths to clear his nose and his senses. God, if he never smelled cold ectoplasm again, it would be _way_ too soon for him.

The substance had dimmed in hue in the bowl, and he grabbed his fork to stab a tater tot. He popped one in his mouth with the substance on it and groaned.

It _was_ like ranch, but… there was something else to it. Was it more dill? More onion? Danny frowned, stabbing another one and dipping once again. This motion and thought process went on for three straight minutes before he stabbed at an empty container. Danny glanced down at the bowl and the tater tots with dim realization.

He had eaten all of it.

He wrinkled his nose, his tongue sticking out slightly as he smacked his lips. Aftertaste- it was the aftertaste.

It was _horrible._

Danny opened back up the refrigerator and pulled out a yogurt, not seeing the time. ‘ _What kind of idiot eats ectoplasm? Wait, that’s me. **I’m** the idiot that eats- ate? Ate ectoplasm. I’m the-‘_

“Danny?”

The boy froze, standing in the doorway with his yogurt top peeling off and looking up slowly to see Maddie at the bottom of the steps now. Her eyes were wide now, gripping the railing with what _seemed_ to be an intent to jump over. Danny held the fork and yogurt cup in his hands, blinking for a moment before slowly eating a spoonful- _forkful_ \- of yogurt.

“Honey, your _eyes!”_ she whispered almost furiously. “Why are they _glowing?”_

Danny almost paled, the refrigerator door open still with fork in the cup. This was a new (and _extremely unwelcome)_ surprise or sorts; to be fair, he had never _eaten_ ectoplasm by itself- or with tater tots, for that matter. “I…” He looked around for an excuse, seeing the bowl on the counter still. “…ate ectoplasm?”

Maddie raised her hands in the air in exasperation; the ceiling seemed to creak once again at the shifting of the bed. “ ** _Straight?!”_**

“N-No, I… heated it up and… d-dipped.” He gestured to the counter; whatever filter the boy might have between his brain and his mouth was gone. “My tater tots in it.”

This was _not_ the explanation Maddie was hoping for, much less expecting. Danny was eating _ectoplasm._ Not to mention he was sweating; could it have been a side effect? She stared at the boy for several seconds before pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil from her back pocket. Her son stared at her, eating the yogurt slowly and carefully.

“What did it taste like?” she asked quietly.

“Uh…” Danny’s mind raced. ‘ _Mental note: no more snack raids.’_ “…ranch two.”

“Ranch two?”

“Y’know? Where you get the taste of ranch and smells a _lot_ more like ranch than the original ranch, but it’s like… less ranch?” Danny could not stop himself now. “Like… ranch two? The sequel?”

Maddie just stared at her son for the longest moment.

“I’m just gonna go to bed and put my dishes away, sound good? Sound good.” He gathered up the dishes and put them in the sink with a little nervous laugh, walking past his mother and giving her a soft kiss. “Night, Mom. Sorry! Won’t happen again.”

Maddie stood there as her son went upstairs, chewing her pencil and turning around to see him stumble back into his room. She could not help but wonder: was the ectoplasm he ate a result of those glowing green eyes? Or was something more at work there?

Why did they look so _familiar?_

More importantly… _ranch two?_

That was a conversation for breakfast in four hours.


End file.
